Wreckage
by DeathFrisbee221
Summary: When an alien crash lands on planet Earth, she gets captured by a gang headed by the sinister Boss, and drawn into a dark world where aliens from all over the cosmos are sold to the highest bidder. But then a mysterious man in a bow tie enters the fray... Based on a quote from the last episode of SJA, The Man Who Never Was: "...there's a black market for alien species..."
1. Chapter 1

"Ugh…"

I sat up slowly, rubbing oily grease from my eyes and aches from my bones. Blearily, I looked around me, and groaned in horror.

The control room was in ruins. The once luminescent walls, smooth and gleaming, were now an explosion of wires and plastic scattered across the floor. The ceiling had partially collapsed, and metal beams and girders were scrunched between the floor and roof, creaking threateningly as if the ceiling was about to give way completely. Air vents hung lazily above my head and belched clouds of steam. The controls themselves were in an even worse shape. The metal panels had been reduced to slabs of charred shrapnel, broken beyond repair. Starbursts of shattered glass glittered in the weak half-light, and wires poked out at odd intervals. A few warning lights flashed weakly; apparently we were way to close to the ground, and the engines were much too slow. Sparks flew angrily from smashed circuit boards, and oil steadily trickled across the floor, forming puddles around several battered chairs, one of which I used to be sat in before the crash.

Typical. One trip to Proxima Centauri and back, and what happened? A bunch of space pirates shot down the ship. Now how was I supposed to get back home?

As I surveyed the carnage, something didn't seem quite right. Lara was missing. She always manned the controls, and I wasn't so much as allowed to set a toe within the control room without her dogging my every move, let alone actually use the controls myself. To be fair, she was twenty-one, and so the legal holder of the Intergalactic Space Travel Permit (ISTP), but that still didn't mean that I didn't want a go.

I forced myself to stay calm. Lara was probably fine. Of course, she would've gone down into the engine room when the ship crashed to throw coolant over the generators and tighten valves. She generally kept her head in tricky situations unlike me, and kept calm in stressful situations, whereas I ended up sobbing uncontrollably, or attempting to kill someone.

I stood up cautiously, the cricks in my legs crackling painfully as I straightened them out. Almost immediately the control room blurred into a kaleidoscope of hazy colours and shapes, and swung around me in unsteady spirals before steadying itself. I staggered dizzily at the sudden pain that rushed to my head, and I felt something warm run down my cheek. I hesitantly reached up to touch it, and pulled back to find my fingers scarlet with my own blood. I swallowed bile and tried not to throw up, instead rubbing my fingers on my trousers and pretending nothing had happened, whilst focusing on the task of moving into the hallway.

Each movement was agony as my sore limbs protested about being used, and as I made my way to the doorway, a small whimper of pain escaped my lips. My heat throbbed in time with my heart, and blood still wormed its way down the side of my face and matted into my hair.

The corridor wasn't much better than the control room. Bare tubes and pipes once fixed to the ceiling now hung loose like plastic vines in front of me and dripped suspicious blue fluid. Steam gushed from the metal grating beneath my boots and engulfed me in a scalding mist that burned my skin. The floor clanged desolately as I limped forward nervously.

"Hello?" I called. "Lara?" My thin voice echoed piteously off the walls and whispered creepily among the dented metal and singed wires.

No call came back, no voice filled with relief and reassurance. Was she unconscious? Or maybe she was… No. I couldn't think like that. She had to be alive. Maybe she couldn't hear me? This was a desperate thought, as this was a very small ship built for planet day-trips instead of deep space voyages, with only one small control room, a very basic engine room, and a frankly minuscule living cabin. It was built for speed, not distance.

Suddenly, footsteps clattered from further down the corridor, a horrid mass of loud noise that made me flinch and cower back against the wall. Could it be Lara? No, there was too much noise for it to be from just one person, more like four or five people? I couldn't be sure, but I just knew that there had only been me and Lara on this ship when it had set off.

The only way away from the noise was behind me, back to the control room. I fled as fast as I could back into the room, which wasn't very fast, more of a limping trot. I wildly looked around. There had to be somewhere to hide, somewhere safe. Could I maybe squeeze into a cupboard, or crush myself behind an air vent? Perhaps I could sink into the pools of shadows and hope that that would be enough to conceal my presence. Then it came to me. The control panel!

Terrified, I madly crawled forwards underneath the panels of smoking buttons and flashing lights until I was in a forest of tangled wires and metal panels, all searing hot and smoking, some occasionally spitting sparks at my face. It occurred to me that if one of those sparks came close enough, I could be blinded.

I crouched behind a column with my knees tucked up to my chin, and I could only wait, shivering, as the footsteps got closer and closer. The ever-coming banging rattled painfully against my ears, and I shut my eyes and curled up tighter, wincing at each footstep.

Then the noise was in the control room, and I opened my eyes to see the newcomers. From my hiding spot, I could see five pairs of sturdy black boots with thick soles, ringed with the hems of camouflage trousers. A voice bellowed out:

"Spread out. Salvage any technology you find, it could be valuable. Remember, we're looking for survivors, and I want them alive, unlike last time." General mutters met the last comment, but one whiny voice stood out among the others.

"Boss, there ain't nobody alive on this ship. We ain't found no bodies, dead or alive!"

"There has to be somebody on board this craft, otherwise how would it fly? And I want you to find them." The logic made perfect sense, but the whiny voice still objected.

"But Boss-"

"Are you disobeying orders?" the other man cut in softly, a hint of feline menace in his words, almost a purr. I quivered with fear.

"No Boss," the other man said shakily.

"Well back to work!"

The thunderous footsteps shook the control room as the men set about searching, roughly opening cupboards and forcing locks, some even delicately picking pieces of machinery apart and storing them in separate plastic bags. Someone whooped and I heard the jangle of metal; they'd obviously found the tool kit packed with enough alien technology to fry a Dalek. But that wasn't likely to satisfy them. I still didn't like the sound of taking prisoners alive. I mean, sure, I wanted to stay alive, but what did they have planned for me? And the first man spoke as if he'd done this sort of thing before. The more I thought about it, the more I didn't like my situation. I needed to get out and fast. I was a sitting duck. All it would take would be one movement or noise, and I was done for.

And of course, that's when they found me.

One of the men ducked down to my level frowning at some of the circuitry and collecting scraps of the controls and circuit boards. I shrank back into the shadows, my breathing hard and fast and my heartbeat so loud I was sure he could hear it. He scanned the workings, collecting a small pile of wires and samples of oil, when he saw my terrified eyes gazing at him out of the black. His own eyes widened, and we were locked in a silent staring competition: mine versus his, glittering turquoise versus soft brown.

"Hey guys! I found a survivor!" he crowed to his comrades, turning back to gaze at me hungrily. All the men crowded round to get a look, and I was surrounded by greedy eyes and poking hands.

"Let's have a look," someone called, and they backed off so that a new man could come to the front.

He was old, with brown hair streaked with silver and deep-set green eyes that examined me coldly. He spoke again, and I realized that this must be Boss, the man giving orders before.

"Young female, probably a Clafnax given the style of the ship. Fine specimen, but she's injured. Could earn us a lot, possibly ten mill on a good day?" He whistled through his teeth. "We've got ourselves a right little earner, that is if we get her cleaned up." He looked me in the eye. "Hello," he said.

I stared back at him in petrified silence. How could he know so much?

He sighed. "You can obviously understand me Clafnax, give a little back."

I pressed my lips together. I was shivering with a barely concealed fear, and I didn't trust myself to speak in case I gave my terror away, and handed them the advantage.

Boss sighed with irritation, before climbing back to his feet. "Get her back to base, but carefully. We don't want any more damage. And hurry up. I want to be back at base by morning before anyone discovers the ship. We'll soon get her talking with a little persuasion."

By persuasion, they evidently didn't mean bribery or plain begging. I had images of me strapped to an operating table, me in a cage left to starve, unspeakable horrors they might apply in order to make me talk. A single tear trickled down my cheek and I wiped it away quickly before my captors could see.

Boss was still talking. "Remember, use steel handcuffs," he advised. "And be careful. Clafnai are notoriously fiery-spirited and vicious, but as soon as the handcuffs are on, it's child's play to manage them." He turned and strode out of the room, leaving me alone with the rest of the men.

Strong hands pulled me roughly out of my hiding place, and I was helplessly dragged out into the open space.

As soon as I was out in the open, I went ballistic.

I jumped to my feet, ignoring the way the control room seemed to lurch dizzily around me, and the pain screaming through my body, and drew on my final reserves of strength. Leaping up had caught many of the men by surprise, and I took advantage of their confusion, lashing out at the nearest man, kicking him in the groin, a universal weak point, before slamming him to the floor.

The others behind me suddenly snapped into action and grabbed my shoulders, hauling me back in order to push me into submission. I could almost feel the steel approaching my wrists, and I squirmed madly, snapping at the hands on me and hissing like a wild cat. But the men around me were strong, and seemed to know exactly what I was about to do. Together, they managed to bear me to the floor, pinning me there with a knee in the small of the back, and hands grasping my neck and arms. Their combined body weight was too much for me, but I still had fight left in me, and I writhed and screamed savagely, trying to escape their grip.

As soon as the steel was snapped around my wrists, it was all over. The will to resist drained out of me like water from a sieve. I lay there limply, unable to move, weakly trying to cry out, but the steel had me in its cold grip, and wouldn't let me go. I was picked up and half dragged, half carried towards the door. I twisted weakly, trying to bite at thumbs and fingers, the only defence I had left, before someone punched me on the jaw in a fit of anger at being bitten. I rolled with the punch, remembering what someone had once told me, but I still saw black spots over my already marred vision, and my cheek smarted as if someone had held a poker to it.

Yells and shouts started as the offender was pushed away from me, and I was hoisted over someone's shoulder, their unfamiliar small clogging my nostrils. A cloud of black overcame me, and I fell with relief into dizzy unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke, I was lying on the floor in the back of a moving van. It was dark, and the only light let in through a tiny barred window fell in thin shafts of honey-coloured light that set the dust motes dancing and glinting like the water droplets in a storm cloud. My jaw ached and my head still throbbed painfully, and I registered numerous cuts and bruises on my legs and arms. I sat up slowly, blinking stupidly until I grew accustomed to the strange greyness around me, only to have a gun suspended in front of my nose.

"Don't move," a man said nervously, tripping over his words. The gun shivered in his grasp, and I felt vaguely amused that he was the one who was scared. I slouched back against a rattling wall, taking a deep sniff. I could smell a warm musky scent, sweet, but with a tang of bitter ambition like lemons. Human, definitely. I pondered this discovery. How did humans know so much about aliens? They hadn't even developed space travel that could get them to Mars alive, let alone outside of their Solar System. From what I knew of Earth, humans were primitive and in the early stages of evolution, unlike my own species.

The transport shuddered to a halt, and the man leaned forward to cradle the cold muzzle of the gun against my neck.

"Get out," he ordered.

I fixed him with a reproachful glare, hoping to unnerve him, and was rewarded with a bead of sweat that trickled down his forehead. I allowed myself a brief twitch of a smile, and climbed out. My legs still felt wobbly, but after the brief, if forced, sleep I'd had, their protests had subsided, and I trusted my legs to take my weight without too much discomfort.

I stood and blinked in the bright light, dazed for a second. We were in a warehouse. Bright lamps glowered from metal girders, and the roof clattered in the wind outside. The cement was firm under my boots, and I braced myself to run or die trying. Around me, a ring of humans shifted restlessly and clicked their weapons menacingly, fingers fidgeting over the trigger. Every eye was fixed on me, some in hatred, others in fear. The man behind me rushed away quickly to a place outside of the ring, glad to be out of the firing line. I was alone, the now-closed door at my back, and guns primed to shoot me down on every side.

The grey haired man, Boss, appeared, leisurely strolling into the ring in front of me. His dull green eyes examined me with the same cold glance he had when he first saw me, only this time with a hint of amusement as if I was a new toy he'd enjoy breaking. I shivered slightly, and not because of the cold. My hands were still bound, and I still felt shakily vulnerable, but I stood tall, holding my head high, letting my fear become a bubbling rage. I wouldn't let myself be intimidated by this mere human. Without the steel shackling me, I could kill him as easily as clicking my fingers.

He slowly circled me, looking me up and down critically. I shuffled warily. Eventually he came closer so that we were only a few feet apart. I sniggered silently as I saw that I was a foot taller than him. I could take this guy down so easily if it wasn't for the handcuffs. Just the thought of the steel made my skin itch.

"Hello again."

I said nothing.

"I said, hello." His voice had the same catlike menace, but I continued to watch him mutely with murderous turquoise eyes. I was more deadly than he could possibly imagine, and he was playing a very dangerous game with me.

He gritted his teeth. "Life will get harder if you don't talk," he whispered threateningly. "I can make your existence a living hell. I could have you tortured and starved. I could have you dissected piece by piece, and then put back together again. I could introduce you to completely new boundaries of pain and fear. And that's is only if you refuse to talk." I stood in silence, and his eyes smouldered with anger: hard, cold, and merciless. I felt a slight twinge of fear towards this man, and my confidence began to crumble. Something told me that he wasn't bluffing, and would stay true to his word.

I swallowed, licked my chapped lips. "What do you want from me?" My voice was hoarse and low, full of dust and grease, but I snarled every word with venom.

He smiled suddenly, but his eyes remained cold. He watched me smugly, and his grin was one of triumph that he'd finally curbed me to his will.

Or so he'd thought.

I'd been holding myself in check, but at this I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I sprang forwards, a deep growl resonating deep in my throat, my lips pulled back to reveal sharp white teeth similar to those of a cat. Boss' smile faltered, and he took a step backwards. I could see a genuine flicker of fear within his eyes.

A multitude of clicks rippled off the walls as each guard cocked their gun, ready to fire, and I slowly backed away from Boss, a savage grin of amusement on my face as I imagined ripping this human's head off.

Boss regained his composure, slipping back into his cold exterior. "What is your name?" he questioned.

I raised my chin. "Why would I tell you?" I enjoyed the sour taste of hostility that coated every word.

"What is your name?" he repeated.

I lapsed back into silence, and he strode forwards, hand raised as if to slap me. In a moment of weakness I recoiled from him, but he let it drop to his side. "Injuries reduce the value," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He looked at me. "You will talk. I'll make sure of that. You will be tamed, and you will obey me."

I glared at him defiantly, before spitting at his feet. "Do your worst," I challenged.

He clicked his fingers, and two guards from the circle stepped forwards, firm hands locking my shoulders in an iron grasp. I flexed slightly, testing their abilities, but one twisted my arm, his face glowing with some sort of weird satisfaction at my gasp of pain, and the way I let myself go limp, unresisting. I tried to mask my discomfort; I couldn't give Boss the pleasure, but he was already walking away in the opposite direction.

My captors pulled me away towards a metal door set in the side of the warehouse. We went though, and I stumbled as I was roughly pushed forwards. I let my gaze rove over details as we marched along a small corridor, in case I managed to escape. A fire extinguisher on the wall. A right turn in a fork of the corridor. Small windows with reinforced glass. Intense lights that made my head ache.

We came across another door, and one of the guards ran an identity card in front of a sensor, causing it to slide open smoothly. Well that was it. I'd never get out without that card. All hopes of escape were drowned under a sudden wave of panic. What was going to happen to me?

I was thrust forward roughly, and fell on my side, unable to catch myself. The metal grating floor cut into my chest and I yelped in pain, but one of the guards hauled me up by the scruff of my jacket and eyed me with distaste, like I was a sack of rubbish or an unwanted kitten. I couldn't stop a small tear from oozing down my cheek in pain and humiliation, and the guard laughed, jostling his mate with an elbow.

"Look, the little freak's crying," he snickered, and his friend laughed as well, frowning in mock sympathy. Defensively, I hissed, neck snaking forward like I'd seen cats do and pupils retracting into evil snake-slits. Instantly the smiles were wiped from their faces, and the one holding me jerked back, pulling his revolver out and pointing it directly at me. I could smell his fear, sharp and metallic, swarming around me in an invisible cloud of mist.

Satisfied, I pulled back and watched him unblinkingly. They weren't so sure that I was that harmless, and waved weapons in my direction.

"Move," one of the guards grunted, shoving the barrel of a revolver into the back of my neck.

I turned to continue reluctantly, but then froze in horror.

A long walkway projected out in front of me, highlighted by the blue wash of cold lights. Glittering metal grating crunched underfoot like new snow, and through the gaps I could see other floors all the way down identical to the one I was one. A glance upwards revealed a metal grating ceiling through which two or three more floors could be seen. Solid concrete walls ran down the entire length of the corridor, broken by mesh doors, criss-crosses of tough wire and cruel rods of metal that opened into tiny cell-like rooms within. Within the cells, the floors were scuffed concrete to prevent escape, and the only furniture consisted of scarred beds with sunken mattresses and threadbare blankets. Each one was filled with grey shadow, the lights in the hall swirling into every corner and cranny, but not quite daring to venture within the prisons. And the prisoners…

Aliens.

All of them. Judoon. Slitheen. Axons. Martians. Sontarans. Zygons. Abzorbaloff. Macra. Krillitane. Ood. So many species and colours, scales and fur, feathers and claws, jewel-bright eyes and clicking teeth. The smells were overpowering, the different scents of species and emotions blending together and twisting my head one way or another when I recognized a certain odour. In one cell, a Minotaur roared at the guards, fierce blue eyes glaring out of a wrinkled face. In another, a Constella Nightmare hummed a mournful song that set my teeth on edge. Its lustrous fur shimmered copper like new pennies, and its diamond claws fractured the rare light into delicate rainbows. So much noise and colour, different languages and rustlings and beautiful songs hummed and chattered, the sheer vibrancy of all these creatures almost blinding me.

The guards watched me with interest, as they would watch a dog once it's onto an interesting scent. My eyes were wide, nostrils flaring as they took in every smell. My head flicked from one side to the next, all self-control gone. I was now following pure instinct.

I slowly managed to gain control of myself, trying to shut out the noise and colour. "What is this?" I gasped over the deafening noise.

The first guard grinned. "Our way of making money."

"Lots of money," added the second.

They both burst out laughing, and I felt sick with rage and despair. This is what was going to happen to me. I was going to be locked in a cage like some animal, until they chose to… to do what? I didn't want to find out, and in that moment, my head cleared and I knew what to do.

I took advantage of the guards' mirth, sliding myself out of their now-loose grasp before bursting into a desperate sprint, my feet clanking loudly and my breath heaving out of my lungs. My arms were still pinned painfully behind my back, and I was starting to lose the feeling in my fingers, but I continued to bolt forwards away from my captors and certain doom. Shouts from behind me, and thudding that vibrated through the floor told me I was being followed, but I had a head start, and I was fast, despite still being woozy from the crash. The creatures in the cells were watching me, curious eyes following my progress. There was a door at the end of the walkway, and my spirits soared before being dragged back down clawing and screaming. I gasped in horror and skidded to a halt as the door opened and more guards flooded through it, all wielding hefty guns and sticks. My guards had obviously called for reinforcements. Great.

I backed away, hating the smell of metal and the poisoned scent of human that clogged my nose and throat, drowning every other aroma around me. The other guards were slowly creeping up behind me, trying to take me by surprise, but I could hear their loud footsteps, and I whipped round. I fell back snarling savagely with my lip curling over my teeth. They shied back at my aggressive show but continued to click their weapons threateningly, coming ever closer to form a loose semi circle pinning me against the mesh of an empty cage. There was no way out, and my eyes swept around me wildly, looking for anything that I could use to my advantage, but there was nothing.

I growled warningly, daring them to come closer. A few called my bluff, slowly approaching me with their guns locked to form a barrier between them and me.

My attempts to fend them off weren't working, and they kept getting closer and closer, pushing me back until I was right up against the mesh. I could feel it coldly biting into my back.

At this point I lost control, and went mad with despair. I pressed against the wire in vain to try and get away, kicking at it, anything to get away.

Then they had me and I was struggling and biting and kicking, shrinking from their hands, and all the while screaming in panic and pure terror. "Let me go!" I yelled. "Leave me alone!"

They bore me to the floor, and I had a sudden flashback of when I was first captured back on my ship. Only this time I was even more determined to get away; it might be my only chance before I got locked away for goodness knows how long.

I bit the hand nearest me, and it loosened, allowing me enough room to wriggle forwards, to crawl to my knees, to give me the slightest taste of freedom before one guard managed to get a grip on my arm before twisting it viciously. My vision blurred with agony and I collapsed to the floor, eyes clamped shut, an echoing shriek ringing in my ears, waiting for the pain to stop. Only when they let me go did I realize that the noise had been me screaming.

I lay there on the metal grating, the slats cutting into my face, too tired and sore to move, my body racked with convulsions. Through fluttering eyelashes, I could make out faces pressed against cage doors, shining eyes full of pity and sadness as they watched me suffer at the hands of humans. Dim echoes of conversation rattled around my ears; shouts and yells of "You've gone too far!" and "Now look at her!" Someone lifted me gently, and I growled weakly, feebly struggling against their grasp. I was lugged into a cell, and dumped onto a protesting mattress before my cell door was slammed shut and the guards walked off laughing and chatting for a pint and a card game. They'd already completely forgotten me.

My eyes drifted shut in sheer exhaustion, and I fell uneasily into a restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When I woke, all was silent, except for the distant unearthly yowling of some alien.

Most of the lights were off except for one or two that flickered nervously and occasionally went out all together as if scared by a sudden noise or movement. The shadows in the corners of my cell curled and twisted in inky tendrils like tentacles, and I was suddenly reminded of the stories of Vashta Nerada I used to hear when I was a child, and the nightmares of black shadows and grinning skeletons I'd had afterwards.

I climbed off the bad and limped over to the mesh of my door to get closer to the light. Soft beams washed over my face, and the insides of my eyelids glowed white as I shut my eyes and forced out the sight of the cells and metal. My limbs ached with injuries from the crash and my arms were incredibly sore. My wrists were chafed and swollen with the handcuffs. The side of my face was stiff with dried blood and the red weal on my jaw throbbed uncomfortably along with my heart.

The corridor was highlighted in an uncertain pale light, leaving the cells sunken in shadows even darker than when I'd first arrived. A few faces were pressed up against the bars outlined in the faint light; sad faces full of sadness and a dragging despair that tugged at my gut to do something, anything. Hollow eyes stared out blankly, one or two resting on me before aimlessly wandering elsewhere. No one spoke, and the place seemed eerily silent. Quite a few of the inmates would be asleep, but the ones who were gripped with insomnia simply sat and stared, huddled in their own thoughts. It occurred to me that nighttime would be the only time they'd have to themselves without being taunted and maimed within their prisons.

My forehead was against the mesh and bars that kept me prisoner, and the cool press of metal sharpened my senses somewhat, dulled the throb of my cheek and the headache that was fast approaching. I grinned half-heartedly. What a mess I was. Cuts, bruises, swollen wrists, and now a migraine. Surely I couldn't be of any use.

In a sudden fit of rage, I threw myself at the bars, again and again, kicking the mesh and bashing the wall with my shoulders. My cage suddenly seemed small, too small, and so small I couldn't breath. The door held, and I sank back down to the floor breathing hard. I knew it was stupid, but it helped to vent some of my anger and I felt considerably better after.

I don't know how long I sat there for, but the next think I knew, lights flashed on in the hall. The sudden brightness momentarily blinded me, and I hissed in pain. Squinting, I soon adjusted, and saw that the whole walkway was drenched in light. Four or five guards were patrolling up and down, several reaching out with their weaponry to rattle the bars of cages, grinning cruelly at the reactions they provoked.

One came to my bars, tapping a rhythm on the bars and scraping across the mesh with his knuckles. The sound grated across my eardrums, but I forced myself to stay with it and not fall back into pure anger. I crouched in the dull shadows. The tapping got louder and louder - the guard clearly wanted me to perform - but when nothing happened he stopped and took a step forwards, brow wrinkling as he tried to distinguish between alien and shadow. A smarter man might've used a torch, but I had an inkling that he wasn't exactly brainy.

I made my move.

"Roar!" I leapt out of the shadows, teeth bared and eyes narrowed in the most fearsome mask I could manage, screaming the single word like it could bring down an entire army. He fell back with a yell of terror, even though a cage of mesh and concrete held me back, and the fright in his eyes made me involuntarily smirk with satisfaction. I'd probably pay for it later, but it had so been worth it.

A snort from another cell caught my attention. A figure stood slouched against their cage door, tall and slim with a relaxed grace that wouldn't have looked out of place in a cat. A pair of reproachful brown eyes blazed out of a beautiful green face encrusted in glowing green scales, only broken by a vivid red scar that wormed its way across its cheek to above its eye.

I sniffed deeply, curious as to the identity of this sudden ally. A dusty, reptilian smell met my nose. The smell of snakes.

"Silurian?" I queried.

She nodded, clearly impressed.

"Shut up! No talking between prisoners is permitted." The guard barked instructions, clearly annoyed with my stunt and happy to resume his position of authority.

The figure rolled her eyes, mouthed a word that looked like it could mean something fantastically rude, before calmly slinking into the back of her cell to lie on her bed, eyes shut in meditation. A tiny smile curled the edges of my mouth; it was the first smile in several days that hadn't been sarcastic or predatory.

The nearest door slid open on a hidden mechanism, and a familiar man marched through.

Boss.

His eyes fell on me standing sedately, watching my surroundings with the beginnings of a smile, which quickly vanished as soon as he approached cautiously. Evidently he remembered my performance from yesterday.

"Hello Clafnax. Sleep well?" he said evenly, almost as if he were genuinely interested in me.

I decided to play it annoyingly cool and calm. I wouldn't let him get to me this time and give him an excuse to treat me like a wild animal. "Very well thanks," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. "Although I would've been more comfortable without the handcuffs."

"Well that's a pity," he said shortly, looking flummoxed at my decision to be (or at least pretend to be) obedient. "We've decided to speak now, have we?"

His patronizing words stung like lemon juice in a wound, but I sucked in a shaky breath. "Maybe, maybe," I said knowingly.

It was his turn to look pained. I was talking, like he wanted, and yet I still clung onto freedom by my teeth, and I wasn't about to let go.

"Are you going to tell me your name?"

"No."

His face hardened. "Why not?"

I hesitated before throwing caution to the wind and going for the full under-the-skin jibe. "Why should I? Anyway you'd never use it. You'd just continue to reference to me as 'The Clafnax'. Which I find incredibly insulting by the way." I sniffed as if upset, before sitting to lean against the wall whilst sighing in mock comfort. I stared at him, but this time my eyes were hard and cold, a challenging glare. "Are we done?"

He glared at me before abruptly moving on to some other life form he could mock without being answered back.

Before I had any time to savour my victory, the door slid open again, and a huddle of people swarmed through. I stood, intrigued by the new humans. They smelt of power and wealth, and their clothes spoke of it as well. They strolled down the corridor, breaking off in smaller groups to gawk through the bars, and chatter excitedly to the guards. I saw money changing hands quickly. Bets perhaps?

I had somehow got myself a couple, a young blonde woman with frankly enormous boobs and a dress that didn't do a very good job of keeping them hidden, and a man, I presumed her husband, who as a lot older and looked rather military in posture. The woman pointed to me, oblivious to the fact that I was right there and could see and hear her perfectly well.

"What is it George?" she whispered, her huge blue eyes steadily getting wider and wider.

"I don't know dear," he replied. He frowned at me. "Hello. Can you understand me?" he said slowly, enunciating every word as if talking to a young child.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I. Can," I said equally slowly. He flushed, backing up quickly.

"It can talk!" the woman gasped.

"Evidently I can speak," I snapped, annoyed by their stupidity. "Now let me get a couple of things clear here. One, I'm not an 'it'. Use your eyes: I'm female. Two, I don't appreciate being talked to like an imbecile since I am three times more intelligent than the both of you put together. And three: please don't goggle at me as if I'm some zoo animal. I may be an alien, but it still doesn't give you the rights to lock me away, tie me up, and watch me for your own amusement!"

I spoke low and fast with a barely disguised menace, and to my relief the couple hurried away, leaving me blissfully alone. None of the guards, or Boss, had heard my outburst, but they would eventually find out somehow, and then I would be done for.

I shrugged. Ah well. It had been worth it.

Across the aisle, an elderly gentleman was eyeing the Silurian appraisingly. She met my gaze for a second before turning back to watching the man with barely disguised disgust. I saw her mouth moving silently, but I was unable to hear the words over the noise made by the visitors and the captives. Either way, the gentleman walked away, and she was left alone.

She smiled in amusement before speaking, voice raised to be heard over the haze of background din. "You're new aren't you?"

I nodded.

The amusement was replaced with a look of pity. "You're only young…" she said softly.

"Why, what's going on?"

She changed the subject nimbly, as easily as changing direction. "What's your name?"

"Miran. What's yours?"

"Kora," she said proudly.

My attention was suddenly grabbed by the sound of a cell door swinging open. The creak set my every nerve on edge; my eyes were fixed on the sight of that door opening slowly to free is occupant. Why was it getting free, why were the rest of us still locked up? What was going on?

The alien was pulled forwards roughly, and I suddenly recognised it as the Constella Nightmare. Its fur gleamed gold and russet, and it yowled nervously, revealing curved fangs made of diamonds. Its nine tails twitched uneasily, several breaking into a hopeful wag.

The couple that'd been looking at me were examining the creature, reaching out apprehensively to run their fingers over its claws and through its thick lustrous fur. The Constella Nightmare gave a purr of pleasure.

I watched with my heart in my throat. I didn't know what was going on here, but my gut told me that it was anything but good.

The couple exchanged words, the woman's face lit up with greed, before the man called to Boss. They exchanged words, before the man handed Boss a bundle of notes. The creature was bundled back into its cage, but a sign was hung from the bars. In bold letters, it read:

** SOLD**

So that was what was going on.

This was a black market for aliens.

Kora was watching me sadly, her seemingly chirpy nature swallowed by despair.

"We're for sale," I whispered.

"I hoped you wouldn't have to find out until later," she confessed. "They look for aliens, like us, perhaps who have crash landed. They'll then strip the ship of any technology or equipment that could be considered as valuable, and then bring back the survivors to be sold for millions of pounds. Of course, the craft is then destroyed so that no one finds out."

"But why? I mean, where do we go? Who buys us?"

"People with lots of money and nothing to spend it on. And as for where we go, we could go anywhere. Some are used as slaves to create new technology. Some are dissected and experimented on in the name of science. Some are kept as exotic pets. And some of us are rare delicacies."

I paced my cell, my situation dawning on me. I was never going to escape. Sure I might escape this cell, but there would be others. And there would be no guarantee that I'd actually stay alive. At this point, I was close to hysteria. And I didn't care a jot.

"I can't stay here. None of us can stay here." Every word oozed with panic.

Kora's face solidified into a clay mask. "There's no way out. I tried, and this is what I got for it." She pointed to her scar. "They nearly killed me!"

"Well I'd rather be dead than in this hellhole anyway!" I threw myself at the wire, ignoring the pain blossoming in my shoulder, determined that I was going to get out or die trying. It wouldn't give, instead tearing viciously into my shirt, several loose sharp ends spitefully sinking into my skin. When I pulled back, I was bleeding.

I sank to the floor, and the whole weight of it all crashed down on me like a huge wave, dragging me down, forcing me under. I'd suppressed tears until now, and one rolled down my cheek, then another, and another until I was silently sobbing. My stomach convulsed as I choked on my own tears. Everything hurt; I'd managed to ignore it until now. I felt everything, the wounds from the crash, the handcuffs digging jagged teeth into my swollen wrists, the countless bruises and cuts, and the constant ache in my head that my life had been smashed into tiny pieces of what it had once been, and that I was never going to piece it back together.

Eventually the tears stopped, and I drew a ragged breath. Several passers by were staring at me, and I half-heartedly growled at them, sending them scuttling away like frightened chickens.

Kora was watching me cautiously. "Are you alright?"

"What do you think?" I flared. She looked hurt. "Sorry," I muttered. I wasn't sure that I was, but she seemed to accept the somewhat terse apology.

"I get it," she said. I believed her. I had no idea how long she'd been here, but the scar etched into her face told me that she'd been here a long time and had yet still managed to cling to whatever dignity she could.

A clatter of footsteps broke through my thoughts, and I looked up only to see a figure blocking my view of the corridor. I was caught in a second's hesitation; should I snarl fiercely and scare him off, or just glare at him coldly and really freak him out?

The answer was neither of the above. I ended up watching him with a wary curiosity.

For starters he looked like none of the other people here. In fact, he looked like no one I'd ever seen before, human or otherwise. My first impression was that of a scientist; I could see glittering intelligence in his dark eyes, and his tweed jacket and cockily angled bow tie could've belonged to a science teacher. But then there was the unruly shock of brown hair, the ever fiddling hands and the trailing laces of his boots, which made his seem younger, and more like a schoolboy.

Another thing was that instead of the greedy excitement with which everyone else watched me, his eyes were full of a weary sadness, like he'd seen this sort of thing before. His gaze reached out to me, and I was tempted to return it. But he was human, and the one thing I'd learned over the past few days was that humans were not to be trusted.

I turned my gaze down to stare resolutely at the floor, like I hadn't noticed him.

"Hello." He whispered the single word, eyes darting from side to side as if he didn't want to be overheard.

I started in surprise. Why would he want to say hello to me? He certainly had my attention now. A ghost of a smile flickered across his face as I reluctantly turned my eyes his way.

"What are you doing here?"

Second surprise. Surely he'd know otherwise he wouldn't be here. I tried to swallow my confusion, but I couldn't keep it down, and it must have shown on my face, as the stranger took a step closer.

I snarled automatically, a thin worn out sound that grated against my dry throat, but my teeth still gave a clear warning. Keep back.

He backed off, raising a hand either in a feeble attempt at reassurance. "It's okay, I understand that you're scared. But I'm going to help you."

I found my voice at last. "Who are you?" I spat. Every word leaked suspicion. "Why should I believe you? You're just like the rest of them."

"No. I'm really not. I promise I will get you out of here, and all the others." His tone was urgent and his eyes begged me to believe him. "But I need you to trust me."

My own glare was sceptical. I wasn't easily persuaded, and I didn't believe for a single second that he wanted to help me. He was human, and that was the end of it.

"Hey! Who the hell are you?" A guard raced over, grabbing the arm of my visitor. "You're not on the list!"


End file.
